


On the Down Low

by shihadchick



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-07 23:27:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11069280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shihadchick/pseuds/shihadchick
Summary: A little surf, a little sand, a lot of tequila, a lot of sex: sounds like a great vacation.





	On the Down Low

**Author's Note:**

  * For [morphosyntactic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphosyntactic/gifts).



> A companion piece to morphosyntactic's awesome accidental voyeurism snippet from way back; here's the other side of the wall.
> 
> With many thanks to dip_cheese for betaing, and to morphosyntactic for letting me run with this. <3

Boller had left Nick and Brandon doing shots at the bar, hunting after a leggy blonde who’d been stalking him right back, giving him the sort of speculative head-to-toe look that was instantly recognizable even across the bar, and through more shots of tequila than Nick quite remembered counting. Nick wasn’t even *involved*, and he wound up blushing, it’d been that hot of a look.

Nick was happy for him, honestly; Boller was a good-looking guy, of course he was gonna get laid on vacation.

Not that Nick needed to worry about that himself.

Despite the tequila, he couldn’t quite help the incredibly smug smile stretching across his lips while he thought about that. While he snuck his hand under the cover of the bar and ran it up Saader’s thigh, his palm resting hot and heavy over the bulge behind Saader’s zipper.

Nick raised an eyebrow at him, catching Brandon’s gaze as he lifted the shot glass to salute him.

Brandon was good at this, though; more subtle than Nick at the best of times, and apparently even when he was a little unsteady on his stool, he still managed to keep his face almost blank; a pleasant smile that in no way gave away the fact that he was chubbing up, his dick getting hard under Nick’s hand while Nick shamelessly felt him up.

“We should probably head back soon,” Brandon said, his voice a little rough—Nick wasn’t sure if that was the booze or all the blood rushing south—but soft as ever, slurring a little on his consonants.

“Sounds good to me,” Nick said, and brought his hand back to his own side. He wasn’t going to start anything more obvious while they were still in public: he was kind of drunk, not stupid. “Coast should be clear,” he added, and wondered why they hadn’t thought to come up with code words or anything last night, while they’d had plenty of time and privacy in their own bed back in Chicago. Then again, they’d been trying to see how much they could do before having to get up for a 6am airport run, so. They’d had other stuff on their minds.

“Lucky for you,” Brandon said sunnily, putting emphasis on the ‘you’, and Nick went pink for reasons that had nothing to do with alcohol. 

He changed his mind about what he’d been thinking earlier; Brandon was secretly kind of evil, or at least way too good at making Nick think about sex with the most innocent of comments. He had to be doing it on purpose.

It wasn’t Nick’s fault he got kind of… loud… sometimes.

And it sure wasn’t like Brandon didn’t enjoy that, either. Nick had seen how smug he’d been every time he’d reduced Nick to a shaking, hoarse wreck, soaked in sweat and smeared with even less savory bodily fluids, wrung out and fucked out, so attuned to what Brandon could do to him.

“Whatever,” Nick said, kind of lamely, and he pushed his bar stool back and stood up, checking in with himself as he did. 

He was a little unsteady, that was fine. His metabolism burned through the alcohol pretty fast most of the time, so he figured he was closer to tipsy than actually proper drunk, and definitely not drunk enough to pass out. Or worry about doing anything. He had to check in with Brandon, though.

Brandon followed suit, steadying himself with a hand on the bar while he found his balance, but he seemed mostly fine after that, and Nick grinned to himself.

Not like he was going to be opposed to just, like, crawling into bed with Brandon if they were too drunk to do anything more than that; that was nice enough, and if Nick desperately needed to get off, well, he had his own hands, so. It was fine.

But the better than even odds of getting to do more than that?

Well, that was pretty fucking awesome.

* * *

They made their way back to their hotel room without incident, dropping phones and wallets and everything else that had been in their pockets over dinner and drinks onto the dresser where the TV was, kicking their shoes into a pile by the door. They’d only been in Cancun for like fourteen hours and their room was already kind of a disaster area, but this wasn’t Nick’s first vacation with teammates. He could live with that.

It was his first vacation with a teammate he was sleeping with, though, and that wasn’t going to get any less novel any time soon.

They were good on the road normally. 

Or at least, they tried to be. Saader was roommates with Shawzy, who would notice if he didn’t come home all night, or if he came home late, or covered in hickeys, or, like. Anything obvious.

They’d decided they wouldn’t do anything more than maybe kissing, if they were sure it was safe, and preferably with Nick’s door locked and latched, and that plan had lasted about half of one road trip before they’d wound up fucking anyway.

Nick was good at getting Brandon off in a hurry, and showering covered a multitude of sins. No one had started giving either of them shit for vanishing too much, though, so they were probably still pretty safe.

Nick looked up as he heard the click of the latch being folded over on the door, Brandon turning on bare feet to beam at him, his expression heated, his cheeks still a hectic pink.

They both paused for thirty seconds or so, the seconds ticking by incredibly slowly before they could agree with an exchange of significant looks that they hadn’t heard anything in the room next door so sure, yeah, Boller must have gone back to his girl’s room. That was perfect. Made it even easier.

“You’re still cool with this, right?” Nick asked quietly, checking in. 

They’d decided that sure, day drinking that turned into after dinner drinking was exactly what they were on this vacation for, and that drunk sex was also fine providing they were both still into it. Nick was definitely in the mood, had started slowing down with the shots when he felt like he was maybe getting too close to too drunk to get it up, and he had a feeling Brandon had done the same. But the idea of being loose and happy and then getting fucked… yeah, if Brandon was still up for it then it was really doing it for Nick.

“I am definitely up for this,” Brandon said, intently, stepping closer to Nick, his footsteps steadier now, after walking in the warm night air had woken them both up a little from the stifling heat and atomised alcohol that had been lingering in the bar. “Can’t believe you did that, back there. In _public_.”

That was out of character for them both, really, but it had been fun, and Nick had exactly zero regrets. 

And now that Brandon had brought it up, well. Nick couldn’t help himself, and his gaze dropped down to where it was still incredibly obvious that Brandon was hard, the outline of his dick clear and present under the thin material of his shorts, distorting the zipper.

Not that Nick was doing any different, but he could wait. He wanted to get his hands back on Brandon’s dick, wanted Brandon’s dick in him, making him feel so hot and so good and so _right_.

“Can’t believe we’ve been back in the room for like five minutes and you’re still dressed,” Nick countered, suiting action to words and pulling his shirt off over his head. Brandon’s eyes narrowed, darkened, and he stepped closer, purposeful.

“Maybe you should strip off faster, then,” he suggested, running his hand down Nick’s chest. Getting a good grip on the waistband of his pants, tugging him closer. “God, you’re so hot,” he went on. “All I could think in the bar was how good it was gonna be to get inside you. Fuck you till you want to scream with it.”

Nick swallowed hard, and nearly choked when his body mixed up the competing messages; his brain trying to coordinate swallowing the rush of saliva to his mouth at that prospect, his hands flying straight to his zipper to finish getting undressed, his dick hard enough that he was going to have to be careful doing that, because fuck, all he could think about was Brandon’s body hot and heavy on top of him, Brandon’s dick inside him, fucking him so good.

Nick was definitely super on board with all of this still.

Drunk sex was going to be amazing.

“You sure you can pull that off?” he asked, pitching his voice so it didn’t carry too far, just loud enough for Brandon to hear him.

“Yeah,” Brandon replied, his voice rough with emotion, his eyes hot, his hands greedy and unconstrained. 

Brandon walked him backwards until his calves hit the side of the bed, and then he didn’t let up either, kept crowding Nick even as he tried to get on top of the bed, laid himself out for Brandon’s eyes and hands to devour.

“Doing so good, Nick,” Brandon said after they’d been doing that for a while, the words spilling out of him like he couldn’t restrain himself, so very obviously appreciative.

Nick’s mind had gone all soft and fuzzy, letting him drift easily in the ebb and flow of Brandon touching him, getting him all wound up. Getting them both all tied up in knots, too turned on to track anything more than the next touch, the next word, the next moment.

“Fuck, oh, fuck,” Brandon repeated as Nick arched up under him in response, and the words seem to ring out loudly in their hotel room all of a sudden, clearly audible over the sound of the waves on the beach outside the open window.

Nick shivered, and tried to remember how to actually move his own limbs, rubbing off against Brandon’s weight and enjoying the way Brandon squirmed while he tried to get his own shorts off without actually letting go of Nick first, the mattress creaking in protest.

Should’ve done that a minute ago, Nick thought with amusement, but he didn’t get a chance to chirp him about his timing because Brandon was reaching up under the pillow beside Nick’s head, coming back with the three-quarters empty bottle of lube they’d been working their way through at home and a bunch of condoms in a strip, still stuck together.

Nick counted them, automatically, matched them up against the number of days they had left on vacation and went hot. Fuck, Brandon had packed for them to have sex at least twice a day.

And it wasn’t like Nick hadn’t tossed a handful of condoms into his own shaving kit, either.

Well, they were just going to have to really commit themselves to it, he thought, stifling a helpless giggle. Give it a hundred and ten percent, go to the dirty areas, really… keep up the pressure. Amazing how that philosophy applied off the ice, too, he thought, snorting, and reminded himself to share the thought later. Brandon would probably laugh, too.

And then Brandon’s wet fingers were pushing confidently, easily inside Nick’s body and he let the thoughts and dumb jokes float right on out of his mind, replaced by the heat building between them, the overwhelming desire that was washing through Nick. It made his heart pound and his dick leak, precome dripping from the head and onto his stomach, smearing over Brandon’s wrist when he reached up to run a considering hand over Nick’s cock, stroking lightly, kissing him through it.

Nick doesn’t need a lot of a prep, doesn’t want to wait and trusts his body, knows what he can take, and Brandon knew all of that by now. Even with the sweet bite of tequila rushing hot through his veins, he was conscious of that, read Nick’s signals saying that he was ready, they were good to go. It didn’t take a whole lot longer at all before he was replacing his fingers with his dick, the first thrust so careful that Nick almost wanted to cry, undone by the tenderness that mixed so seamlessly with the heat.

He picked up his pace after that, though, hips moving, hands tight on Nick’s body, thrusting in a steady, hard rhythm. He fucked Nick hard enough that the bed was rocking with it, the frame knocking into the wall, a steady 1-2 rhythm like something out of a teen movie or a porno.

If he was being honest, that was kind of doing it for Nick too; feeling it and hearing it, Brandon’s dick brushing over his prostate on every other stroke, filling him up and driving him out of his mind.

He tightened his body around Brandon briefly, had just enough control left to do that, and Brandon kissed him hard, his teeth knocking into Nick’s lip. After a few seconds of that he pulled back enough to look down at him, eyes dark in the moonlight washing over the bed, unyielding in his affection. 

“Fuck, Nick,” he said, softly, like the words were unspooling from the secret threads in his heart, tying them closer and closer together, tangling them up the same way they’d been starting to ever since they agreed to try this.

Nick kept looking at Brandon’s face, falling into the depths of his gaze, only conscious of how good he felt, how hot they were together, how this was everything he could want or need. 

It was just so good.

“Yeah,” Nick said again, barely loud enough to be audible, but Brandon heard him, heard the unspoken declaration as well as the way he was begging him with his eyes, with his body, with the way his hand trailed lightly down the length of Brandon’s spine. Read his affection, his need in the way his fingers dug into the muscles of Brandon’s ass, encouraging him to move harder, faster, more, more.

Brandon’s good at following instructions and he’s good at knowing what Nick needs, so he somehow found the additional energy—and crucially, the additional coordination—to start fucking Nick harder, driving into him, rocking the bedframe even louder into the wall. Thank god Boller picked up, Nick thought absently. Having to be quiet was fun sometimes, but being able to just let go of his inhibitions the way he wanted to was so much easier.

He thought he might be begging out loud, was definitely making noises with every thrust of Brandon’s hips, couldn’t choke them back even if he had wanted to. He wanted to let his head fall back into the pillow so he could give himself over completely, but if he did that then he couldn’t watch, he couldn’t watch the way Brandon’s face moved, see how he was red and sweating, his eyes wide, mouth tight, focus completely on Nick. Nick was pretty sure he was going to strain something, keeping his legs up, holding himself in a way that meant Brandon could fuck him and lean down every now and then to kiss him, but it was worth it, it was so fucking worth it for how good it felt.

When he finally came, it felt like it lasted forever in an instant. He came all over himself and all over Brandon, too, messing them both up, hot and sticky and so fucking good.

Brandon murmured “Fuck,” once more, low and intensely, and Nick could feel him come too, shivered all over with the overstimulation as Brandon’s hips jerked a couple times more, and then as Brandon froze in place, panting hard as he came down from it.

Nick pulled faces at him when Brandon finally pulled out, disposed of the condom carefully and—after a pause where he seemed to realize all of their clothing was completely out of reach—just wiped his hand off on the sheet beside Nick’s hip.

Nick stretched out, carefully, quietly relieved that his quads weren’t killing him quite as much as they maybe could have been, hoping he wasn’t going to wake up with a charlie horse in a couple hours from how tight his calves were. He wrapped himself around Brandon, arm draped around his chest and lips gentle on the back of his neck. Nick liked being the big spoon, and Brandon liked cuddling. It worked out pretty great for both of them, really.

“You good?” Brandon asked softly, reaching back to pat Nick’s hip. It was probably the easiest part for him to reach, at least until he threaded his fingers through Nick’s, covering his hand where it was resting on Brandon’s sternum.

“Mmm,” Nick replied, letting his lips vibrate against the jut of bone at the top of Brandon’s spine. “That was great.”

“Awesome,” Brandon said, sounding his age for once, and then reinforcing it by yawning so big his jaw cracked. Nick winced sympathetically. “I’m really tired.”

“We were up early,” Nick allowed. “And, uh, you’ve done some work.” Not that it was anything they were going to be sharing with their respective trainers, of course.

“Yeah,” Brandon said, and he twisted around, squirming, and strained his neck just long enough to kiss Nick fast and hot, with a lot of tongue. “We should go to sleep now,” he said, sleepy enough that it was basically a foregone conclusion, even if Nick had wanted to argue.

“Good idea,” Nick said, and yawned himself. It really was contagious.

“We should set an alarm,” Brandon said, and Nick would bet a lot of his salary that Brandon’s eyes were already closed, and by ‘we’ Brandon was hoping to mean ‘Nick’.

“What for?” Nick asked. They hadn’t signed up for any tours or anything, and he’d been looking forward to sleeping in for once.

“Gotta get up early,” Brandon said, his whole body relaxed and warm against Nick’s. “We should work out some more then,” he added, and Nick grinned helplessly as he got it, and oh right, they didn’t come up with any code words before because Brandon was just as big a fucking dork as Nick is, and so the code was so flimsy as to be hilariously pointless, but it wasn’t like Nick wasn’t completely on board with that anyway, so.

“Yeah, okay,” Nick murmured. “Go to sleep, Saader.”

“Night,” Brandon mumbled, and just like that, he was out like a light.

As ever, Nick was right behind him.


End file.
